


It's gonna take a tender touch

by justonemoremiraclesherlock



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Werewolves Are Known, Angst with a Happy Ending, Asexual Stiles Stilinski, Asexuality, Bisexual Derek Hale, Communication, Cuddling & Snuggling, Escort Derek Hale, Explicit Consent, Fluff, Getting Together, Hurt/Comfort, Idiots in Love, Just in general, M/M, Mentioned Kate Argent, Minor Vernon Boyd/Erica Reyes, Misunderstandings, Slow Burn, Touch-Starved, but not in like a sexual way tho
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-11
Updated: 2021-03-17
Packaged: 2021-03-17 20:41:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29972001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justonemoremiraclesherlock/pseuds/justonemoremiraclesherlock
Summary: “So, what can I do for you? What are you looking for, exactly? I’m assuming you checked the website to get an idea of what services we provide.”“Yeah, I— it said you did a bit of everything. Like, you don’t just focus on sexual encounters.”“That is what most people request, but yes, we offer a variety of things. Some people come looking for sex, some just want a piece of arm candy to show off, and some want a mixture of both. I’m assuming you’re on the second group?”“Not… exactly.” Stiles bit his lip, unsure whether to continue, but when Derek raised a questioning eyebrow, he soldiered on. “I’m looking for a… companion. Kinda.”“… A companion.”“Yeah, like,” he blushed. “Someone to talk to. Share some meals with. Um, with some touching thrown in, but nothing, like, sexual or anything. Stuff like that.”
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 32
Kudos: 175





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Because apparently, I have a thing for taking tropes specifically designed for smut and making them as non-sexual as possible. 
> 
> As a side note, some of Stiles' experiences with asexuality are based on mine. Not every asexual person feels the same way about sex, or intimacy in general for that matter, so don't take this as any sort of universal experience. And needless to say, since this is an AU in which werewolves are a thing and everything, let's just pretend that that's just how (werewolf) escorts work or something, cause this is by no means a depiction of how escorts work in real life. Like, at all, I'm sure.

Stiles fidgeted in his chair, alternating between looking around the waiting room and glancing at his phone. He kept debating with himself, as he’d done for the past week since he’d made the appointment, about whether he should just leave and forget about the whole thing. But every time he was about to get up and bolt towards the entrance, he reminded himself that it had taken him _months_ to gather the courage to make the appointment in the first place, and if he left now without at least giving it a chance, he would be too much of a coward to try again.

Besides, as pathetic as he felt, he knew this was something he wanted, _needed_ to try. He was aware that most people hired werewolf escorts for sex or to show them off, but he had read the website thoroughly, and there was nothing that went against what he was looking for. In spite of that, a part of him still worried, and wondered if the guy assigned to him wouldn’t just laugh in his face when he told him what he was after.

Shit, maybe it wasn’t too late to run away, the receptionist had been gone for a while—

“Stilinski?” Stiles almost jumped out of his skin when the receptionist-slash-owner —Erica, his mind supplied— appeared in front of him. “Sorry about the wait. He’s ready to meet you now, just follow the corridor over there,” she said, pointing beside her, “and go to the third door on the right. I hope you’ll decide to do business with us,” and with a smile and wink, she went back to her desk.

Stiles blushed, mumbling a thanks, and took a deep breath as he made his way to the room. He hesitated one last time before knocking on the door, but a voice inside was already telling him to enter.

Right. Werewolf senses. That was a thing.

He opened the door, and was pleasantly surprised by the man sitting on the couch. He was… well, gorgeous, to be honest. He didn’t need to be attracted to him to see that. Between the beard, the menacing eyebrows, and the leather jacket, he could appear a bit intimidating, but his eyes were soft, and Stiles took comfort on that.

“Hello. You must be Stiles, right?” the man asked, holding out his hand.

“Um, yeah. It’s not my real name, cause it’s kinda hard to pronounce, but everyone calls me that, so,” Stiles said, shaking his hand. One minute in and he was already rambling. Awesome start.

The man chuckled. “You’d be surprised how many people use fake names here. I wouldn’t worry too much about it. I’m Derek, by the way, it’s nice to meet you.” Derek gestured to the couch behind him, and they sat down. “So, what can I do for you? What are you looking for, exactly? I’m assuming you checked the website to get an idea of what services we provide.”

“Yeah, I— it said you did a bit of everything. Like, you don’t just focus on sexual encounters.”

“That is what most people request, but yes, we offer a variety of things. Some people come looking for sex, some just want a piece of arm candy to show off, and some want a mixture of both. I’m assuming you’re on the second group?”

“Not… exactly.” Stiles bit his lip, unsure whether to continue, but when Derek raised a questioning eyebrow, he soldiered on. “I’m looking for a… companion. Kinda.”

“… A companion.”

“Yeah, like,” he blushed. “Someone to talk to. Share some meals with. Um, with some touching thrown in, but nothing, like, sexual or anything. Stuff like that.”

Derek was looking at him as if he’d grown two heads. The urge to run was increasing. “How desperate are you to come to an escort service for something like that?” Derek blurted out.

Stiles flinched, curling in on himself. He knew he should have left when he had the chance, this had been a terrible idea. He was about to get up and flee, when Derek reached out to touch his forearm, looking contrite.

“I’m sorry. That wasn’t… that was out of line. It’s not my place to judge why you’re here.” Derek must have seen that he still looked uncertain, because he squeezed his arm and said softly, “Please, stay.”

Stiles’ shoulders relaxed a fraction, but he was still wary. Derek did seem genuinely apologetic, though, so he decided he might as well follow things through. Maybe the guy was new or something, and still hadn’t learnt how to hide his reactions. Besides, he could barely blame him for judging him. It’s not as if he wasn’t judging himself, too.

“All right. So, is that something you guys offer, or...?”

“Technically, yes,” Derek said slowly, letting go of his arm now that Stiles seemed willing to stay. “Contracts are tailored specifically for each person, so we can design one with whatever parameters you set.” He grabbed the laptop that was sitting on the coffee table, and started to type. “I’m assuming you want this to be long-term?” Stiles nodded. “All right. Let’s start by creating a schedule, then.”

They agreed to meet up at Stiles’ place on Tuesdays and Saturdays. Derek would go around lunch-time on Tuesdays, and spend the whole afternoon there, and go after lunch on Saturdays and stay for dinner, since Derek had Sundays off and Stiles felt more comfortable making him stay late when he knew he didn’t have to work the next day (even though Derek reminded him that he usually worked mostly at night anyway, but he seemed to appreciate the sentiment).

Then, Derek proceeded to talk about the base price for each of their appointments, making it clear there could be extra fees if Stiles decided he wanted him to be available on the phone outside of their scheduled time together (unless it was to cancel a session or something of the sort), or if he wanted to make any modifications to the contract. Derek also suggested he should download their app, so he could have the contract on hand at all times, along with their schedule, and so he could link up his credit card to pay him more easily after each session.

“Read the contract carefully before we meet up on Saturday, so we can go over it when I get there,” Derek said. “Do you want me to dress in a certain way? Bring anything in particular?”

“I don’t think so. Whatever you’re comfortable with, I guess,” Stiles shrugged.

“Very well. See you on Saturday, then,” Derek said, with the hint of a smile. “I’ll be looking forward to it.”

* * *

“So? How did the meeting go?” Erica asked, entering Derek’s room and sitting down on the other end of the couch, passing him a cup of coffee.

Derek groaned. “I almost run him off two minutes in.”

“That’s a record, even for you. What the hell did you say to him?”

“He wanted— He said he wasn’t looking for sex. Just someone to talk to and spend time with.” Derek grimaced. “I… might have told him he had to be desperate to come to us for something like that.”

Erica smacked him on the back of the head. “You’re an ass. Rule number one is no judgement, Hale. Don’t make me fire you.”

“I know,” Derek sighed, rubbing his forehead. “I just— It caught me by surprise. Everyone that comes here does so for the novelty of banging a werewolf, or to parade us around like we’re an exotic pet,” he huffed. “No one’s ever wanted to share a chat and a meal before.”

“Well, maybe he’s a romantic. Wants to wine and dine you first, before sexing you up,” Erica shrugged. “Or maybe he’s just lonely. It’s none of your business, anyway.”

Derek rolled his eyes. “I know.”

“He was pretty, though, wasn’t he? That should be a plus.”

“He was,” Derek admitted. “And he actually managed to go an entire conversation without looking at my dick, or asking if I really have a knot. It was refreshing, to say the least.”

“Nice. Keep your guard up, though. You know appearances can be deceiving.”

“I know. But he doesn’t— I don’t know, he doesn’t seem like the type.”

“Neither did Kate,” Erica whispered, finding his hand and giving it a small squeeze. “Just be safe, okay? And let me know if anything weird happens.”

“I will,” Derek murmured, squeezing back. “Thanks.”


	2. Chapter 2

“So, wait, back up,” Scott said, holding his hands up. They’d started doing video calls a couple of years ago, instead of normal phone calls, because of how much they relied on body language when they talked. “You’re telling me that when you said, and I quote, ‘I’m finally meeting someone’, what you _actually_ meant was, ‘I’m finally going to one of those werewolf places and getting myself an escort’?” His best friend seemed unamused.

“I mean…” Stiles tugged at his sleeve, avoiding Scott’s eyes. “Kinda? I technically got myself a companion, since that’s the wording I used, but—”

“Dude, why would you _pay_ someone to basically date you? You know you can just—”

“I _can’t_ , actually. Which has become painfully obvious these past few years.” Stiles ran his hand roughly through his hair, and finally looked up at Scott. “Listen, dude, I just want— I just want someone to spend time with, okay? You’re all the way over in Beacon Hills, and so is dad, and believe it or not, working from home doesn’t leave many opportunities to meet people. And yeah, I know I could go to a bar, or something, like _normal_ people do,” Scott flinched at that, “but after what happened last time, I’d rather not try again. This way, I can actually experience the dating part of a relationship, without having to worry about all the expectations that come with it. Even if it’s just pretend.”

Scott sighed. “Yeah, okay, fair enough. Listen, if you think this is a good idea, I’ve got your back, you know that. Just… be careful, okay? I know you, dude. Spending time with a guy like that, practically _dating_ him, for weeks, maybe months?” Scott shook his head. “There’s no way you’re not falling for him.”

“I’m not _that_ delusional, you know? I’m literally paying him to spend time with me, so trust me, I have zero expectations,” Stiles snorted.

“Whatever you say, buddy,” Scott said, resigned.

The conversation moved to another topic after that, but by the time Stiles went to bed, Scott’s words came back in a rush.

He’d meant what he said; Stiles knew this thing with Derek was just business. And yeah, the guy was nice to look at, but it’s not as if Stiles knew anything about him, and he didn’t hold out much hope for learning anything in the future, either. Dude could literally feed him whatever line he thought Stiles wanted to hear, and he would be none the wiser.

All he wanted to get out of this was some nice company, someone to talk to that wasn’t thousands of miles away, and maybe a small self-esteem boost. Maybe in a couple of months, he could even try dating for real again, if everything went well. It was a win-win situation.

* * *

By the time Saturday came around, Stiles’ newfound confidence had flown out of the window, and he was now a bundle of nerves. He’d gotten everything ready almost two hours before Derek was meant to arrive, and he’d spent the rest of the time trying to watch a movie while second-guessing himself.

What If something went wrong? What if Derek got lost and didn’t found his apartment? What if he was late? Or if he just never arrived? Oh, god, what if he _did_ arrive—

Stiles was startled out of his thoughts by a knock on the door, and a glance at his phone told him it was time already. Which meant that knock had to be Derek.

Shit, was it too late to pretend he wasn’t home? Maybe—

“Stiles,” Derek’s voice came through the other side of the door, “you know I can hear your heartbeat, right? I know you’re in there.”

Fucking werewolves.

Stiles took a deep breath, and before his mind suggested he jumped out of the window instead, he opened the door.

Derek raised an eyebrow. “Hello.”

“Hey. Um, sorry, I was— I was just sending a text. Got distracted.” Derek’s eyebrow rose another fraction. Totally not buying it, then. Instead of trying —and failing— to justify himself any longer, he just moved aside so Derek could get in.

“So,” Derek said, as Stiles led him towards the kitchen, “do you have any questions, then? Anything in the contract you want to change?”

“Oh, no, everything looks good. There were a couple of things I was wondering about, though, but I was thinking…” Stiles flushed slightly, avoiding Derek’s eyes. “Do you bake?”

“Not much, but I manage,” Derek answered slowly, with a tilt of his head. “Is that something you want us to do?”

Once Stiles realized that Derek was genuinely curious, instead of mocking, he made eye contact again. “Yeah. I mean, if you want to, of course! I was just thinking that maybe we could make something to snack on until dinner, while we were doing all the talking.”

Derek took a few seconds to answer, and Stiles was about to backtrack and suggest they do something else instead, when Derek finally answered, “Baking sounds nice.” He cleared his throat. “Sure, we can do both. Any preferences?”

As it turned out, they both had a thing for peanut butter cookies, so they went with that. While they worked on the dough, Stiles got to ask a few questions, like what would happen if he had to cut a session short, or if there were any boundaries or limits he needed to look out for.

“Well, it depends on why it’s being cut short,” Derek explained. “I’m not allowed to leave before my time is up, unless it’s an emergency. In that case, you, as the client, get to decide how much of the percentage you’re willing to pay, if any at all. You, on the other hand, can end the session whenever you want, but you’ll be required to pay in full, no matter how much time has passed, unless you just cancel the session beforehand.”

“As for any boundaries,” he continued, “well, we have a strong policy on consent. I’m within my rights to refuse anything, and if a client continues pushing the subject anyway, the contract can become null and void, and they’ll be banned from working with us again. If they go too far, or the harassment continues, we involve the police. Erica takes our safety very seriously,” Derek finished, frowning down at the bowl in his hands.

“Hey, you okay?” Stiles touched Derek’s arm, concerned, and felt the muscles tense up under his hand.

“Of course. I think this is ready to go into the oven,” Derek said, stepping away and dislodging Stiles’ hand.

Things became… slightly awkward after that. It was clear something had made Derek uncomfortable, but Stiles didn’t want to push. It wasn’t his place to do so. They put the cookies in the oven, and while moving towards the living room, Stiles set the timer. They were both tense as they sat on the couch, and unable to withstand the silence, Stiles turned on the Tv for some background noise, hoping it would help dissipate the tension.

He almost jumped when he felt Derek’s hand on top of his, a couple of minutes later, and he turned to look at him.

Dereck was staring back. “May I? You said some touching was okay.”

Stiles hesitated, since Derek hadn’t welcomed his touch before, but he didn’t seem as uncomfortable anymore, and Stiles reckoned he wouldn’t have asked if he didn’t want to. So he nodded, and held his breath as Derek twined their fingers together, brushing the pad of his thumb over the back of Stiles’ hand.

He didn’t know when the last time someone had touched him like this was, and while he knew that Derek was just doing his job, he could feel his heart beating rapidly in his chest. He was sure Derek could hear it too, from the small frown he was sending his way, so he gave Derek’s hand a squeeze, to let him know he was okay.

They stayed seated like that until Stiles’ timer let him know the cookies were done, and only then did Derek let go of his hand. They moved back to the kitchen, and once they set the cookies on a tray to let them cool, Stiles racked his brain for something to talk about. He could blabber a mile a minute when he knew the person well enough, but Derek was still a stranger, and he didn’t want to ask anything too intrusive, even if he thought Derek would probably lie to him if he did so.

Just when Derek was opening his mouth, because Stiles’ timing had always been terrible like that, he blurted out, “So, what’s it like being a werewolf?”

Derek stared at him. All of the sudden, his shoulders dropped, and his mouth pressed into a thin line. “You can just ask what you _really_ want to know. No, we don’t have knots, I’m not actually a _dog_ —”

“Woah, woah, what the hell, dude? I just wanted to know about your werewolf superpowers or whatever, not about your dick, jesus.” He did _not_ need that mental image, thank you very much.

Derek, for his part, seemed both frustrated and… relieved? “You weren’t— really?”

“No! Who the fuck asks someone else what their dick looks like?”

“People who hire an escort who’s also a werewolf. Though, to be fair, they usually skip that question and just ask to see it.”

“ _Oh my god_ , please stop.” Stiles rubbed his eyes. “In case you’ve forgotten, that’s not what I hired you for. So, can we just— listen, you don’t need to answer if you don’t want to, okay? Just forget about it.”

The silence was back now, and Stiles was seriously considering ending the session early, even if it had only been two hours.

But then Derek started talking, almost tentative, “We have a heightened sense of smell and hearing. I can scent people’s emotions, though only some basic ones, like anger or happiness, and I can hear things from afar.”

“Like my heartbeat. Back when we first met, and today when you got here.”

Derek gave him a quick smile. “Exactly.”

“And do you—” Stiles bit his lip to stop himself from asking. Derek had already shared enough, and it seemed honest. He didn’t want to push.

“You can ask,” Derek whispered. “If I’m not comfortable with a question, I’ll just refuse to answer, all right? But you can always ask.”

Stiles nodded slowly. “Do you do the whole shift thing? With the face, and the fangs, and the whole deal?”

“I do,” Derek answered, and frowned, tilting his head in curiosity. “Is that… something you want to see?”

“… Is that something you’d be willing to show?”

Derek examined him for a few seconds, though Stiles had no idea what he was looking for. Finally, he seemed to have made up his mind, and after letting out a breath, his features started to change.

Stiles looked on in wonder, taking it all in, but he couldn’t help but focus on Derek’s eyes, who had lost their green tint, and were now a bright, intense red. He was so mesmerized that he forgot himself for a moment, and reached out to touch the corner of Derek’s eyes, only realizing what he’d done when Derek flinched slightly under his touch.

“Shit, sorry—” Stiles tried to pull his hand back, but Derek grasped it, keeping it in place.

“It’s fine. You just caught me by surprise.” After a moment, he whispered, “You don’t look scared. Or disgusted.”

Stiles frowned. “Is that usually the reaction you get? I’d have thought people would be in to it.”

“People don’t usually want to see a werewolf like this in private. They only ask us to shift when they’re showing us off, like they would an exotic pet,” Derek huffed. “And then they just stare in horrified fascination, mostly.”

“Dude, you look fucking awesome, what is there to be scared about?”

That got a laugh out of Derek. “You realize I have fangs, right? And claws?”

“So?”

Derek just laughed again, though it seemed a bit more hysterical this time.

“People are idiots,” Stiles muttered. “Thanks, by the way. For showing me.” He let his hand drop, and took a step back, giving Derek some space to regain his composure. “Now, what do you say we take care of those cookies while we start thinking about dinner?”

Derek shifted back, and smiled. It even looked genuine this time.

* * *

By the time Derek got home, he was exhausted. In spite of all the mis-steps, and some awkward silences, he’d actually had a good time with Stiles. Still, couldn’t wait to shower and get into bed…

“Hey, baby bro!”

… If his sister could hold off the questions long enough to allow him to do so, of course.

“Laura,” Derek greeted her. “How was your day? Mine was great. Yes, I missed you too. Good night, see you tomorrow.”

Laura snorted. “Yeah, nice try.” She grabbed him by the arm and pulled him towards the couch. “So, what did you think of your new client? Spill!”

“He was… different.”

“Different how?” She frowned. “Did he do something? Do I need to talk to Erica?”

Derek rolled his eyes. “No, he didn’t. And I’m perfectly capable of talking to Erica myself.”

“Well, excuse me for being worried. You only started working again a couple of weeks ago, I just want to make sure you’re okay, now that you got your first long-term client, dickhead.”

“I’m fine,” Derek sighed. “Really. He was just… He kept asking for my opinion on things. As in, checking whether I was up for the stuff he had planned.”

“And those plans were...?”

“He wanted to bake.”

Laura blinked. “Seriously?”

“We made peanut butter cookies.” Laura blinked again. “And _then_ , after asking if I could show him my shift, he said it was _awesome_.”

“… Awesome.”

“Yes.”

“Well, no wonder he had to hire someone to date him, guy’s clearly delusional.”

“ _Laura_.”

“What? I’m just saying, he’s not normal.”

“Maybe,” Derek conceded. “But it’s nice to be treated as something other than a piece of meat, for a change.”

Laura’s frown was back. “I don’t know why you stay at that job if you hate it so much.”

“I don’t _hate_ it. I’m lucky to have Erica as a boss, and the pay is good. I just have to deal with assholes on an every-day basis. I would be treated just as poorly if I worked at costumer service.”

“Yeah, okay. Fair enough.”

“Besides, I’m good at what I do. Or, well,” Derek continued, suddenly bitter, “I used to be. I’m pretty sure Erica’s been sending some of the more demanding clients to the others, or I would have probably been fired by now.”

“Hey, none of that, you’re doing great,” Laura said, pinching him on his side. “The fact that you can even do your job _at all_ , after what happened, is proof of that.”

“Whatever you say,” Derek sighed in resignation. “Are you done with the questioning now? I’m tired.”

“Yeah, yeah, go to bed. I’ll let you sleep in tomorrow.”

“Thanks,” he mumbled, pressing a kiss on top of her head as he went to his bedroom.

Laura could probably tell how much he’d enjoyed his time with Stiles; after all, it wasn’t every day that that he came in singing praises to one of his clients. He knew he should manage his expectations, that one session with the man was not enough time to form an opinion on him, but he couldn’t help but be hopeful.

Maybe he finally had something to look forward to, for the foreseeable future. Tuesday couldn’t come soon enough.


	3. Chapter 3

“All done for the day?” Erica asked, as Derek stepped into her office.

Derek sighed, dropping heavily on one of the chairs in front of her desk. “Yeah, the guy left a couple of minutes ago. Was he the last one?”

“Nope, Boyd’s still with his client, but he should be done soon,” Erica said, checking the time. “Hey, wanna grab a drink with us? We were going to check out the new bar that opened near the library.”

“Are you going to spend the whole night making out, like you did last time?” Derek asked, raising an eyebrow. “Because I want nothing to do with that.”

Erica sniffed. “You’re just jealous I’m the one who gets to make out with Boyd.”

“As he should be,” Boyd said, as he came into the room. He pulled up a chair and sat down next to Erica, pressing a kiss to her temple.

“I don’t know why I put up with you two,” Derek muttered.

“Shut up, we’re a delight,” Erica grinned, and then turned to look at Boyd, “Everything all right? How did it go?”

“She was fifteen minutes late, and then spent another ten minutes at the end complaining about having to pay for the whole session anyway.”

“Oh, one of _those_. I’ll put a mark on her file; if she tries to pull that shit again, she’s out.”

Boyd nodded in response, and then turned to Derek, “Did Erica ask you about tonight?”

“She did. Do you think you’ll be able to control your libido this time?”

“Bold of you to assume I’m the one who’s perpetually horny in this relationship.”

Erica grinned smugly. “I make no promises.”

Derek rolled his eyes. “Whatever. Ready to go? We do have work tomorrow.”

“Yeah, yeah, let’s go. I need me some alcohol.”

* * *

One hour and three drinks later, the three of them were already quite buzzed, so it came as no surprise to Derek that Erica started grilling him about Stiles.

“So, how are things with the Stilinski guy? You’ve had what, four sessions now?”

“Five. And I don’t know, it’s been… weird.”

“Wait, bad weird?” Erica asked, immediately alert.

“No, no,” Derek hurried to reassure her. “Just— I don’t think anyone’s ever asked me what I wanted so many times in a day, before. And he seems content with letting me set the pace. He likes being touched, I can smell it on him, but he never makes the first move.” Derek frowned down at his drink. “I’ve been trying to take it slow, since he doesn’t seem to mind. We haven’t gone further than hand holding and some hair petting.”

“And they say romance is dead,” Boyd muttered, surprising a laugh out of Erica.

“Shouldn’t you be happy about it?” Erica asked, leaning back on her chair. “You get along okay, and you spend most of your time eating and spending quality time with a cute guy. Unless he’s a poor conversationalist, it seems like a pretty good deal.”

“I didn’t say I was _unhappy_. And I like talking to him. I’m just… confused, mostly. Or waiting for the other shoe to drop.”

“I know I told you to be careful, but not to the point of being cynical. I’m not saying you should trust him, mind you, but… relax a bit. Enjoy yourself. You don’t get a client like this every day.”

“Yeah, he’s special, all right,” Derek muttered, but the corner of his mouth was twitching, and he sounded almost fond.

Boyd and Erica shared a look.

“By the way,” Erica said, changing the subject. “How do you feel about stepping things up a bit?” At Derek’s confused expression, she continued, “I know you’ve noticed I’ve been giving you… the easiest clients, let’s say.”

“The one’s who are less likely to make a fuss if we don’t behave?” Boyd asked.

Derek looked amused. “Yeah, I noticed.”

“Well, how do you feel about dealing with some assholes?” Erica grimaced. “It’s a bit sooner than I would have liked, but we’ve been getting a lot of those, lately. Nothing long-term for now, Stiles' keeping you plenty occupied on that front, but—”

“Erica, it’s fine. I appreciate the fact that you gave me a break in the first place. You didn’t have to.”

“Of course I did, idiot, you’re my _friend_. Now, yes or no? If you’re not ready, then I’ll figure something else out, don’t worry.”

“I don’t mind. I’ve been… less on edge, lately. I think I could handle it.”

“Are you sure?” Erica asked, more serious now. “Because friend or not, if the complaints start to pile up—”

“Erica, I _know_. I wouldn’t do that to you. I promise I’ll behave, and if it gets to be too much, I’ll let you know.”

“Okay. Thank you.” She downed the rest of her drink and slid her glass towards Derek. “Now go get me another drink. The night’s still young.”

* * *

Derek hadn’t been lying when he’d mentioned how well things were going with Stiles, but he _had_ left a couple of details out. Maybe they hadn’t gotten far in the touching department, true, but they actually managed to have proper conversations now. There were still times in which he would get lost in his own head, which usually resulted in Stiles turning on the Tv to cover up for his silence, or moments in which Stiles would get anxious and clam up, which led to Derek touching him in some way, since it always helped him relax. But both of them were slowly starting to open up, and while Derek had no reason to share anything about himself, he couldn’t help but be honest anyway. There were things he wasn’t comfortable talking about, of course, but Stiles never seemed to mind when he changed the subject.

The baking had also continued, at least once a week. Derek was barely a passable baker when they first started, but getting in so much practice had made him realize that he had a knack for it. They always made too much for just the two of them, though, so when Derek mentioned that he had a roommate, Stiles made sure to always give him some leftovers to take home. Laura had been suspicious at first, but after Derek reminded her that he’d been eating the food for weeks, she had been delighted.

Derek tried to take Erica’s advice to heart and enjoy himself, but the memory of Kate was holding him back. She was the living proof that it wasn’t a good idea to get too close to a client, but his relationship with Stiles was so unique, that the lines had started to blur before their first session had even started. Which was exactly why he couldn’t bring himself to fully trust Stiles —he already had so much power over him, that if he took that last step, there would be no going back. And as tempting as it was to just let Stiles in, he didn’t think he could handle another Kate.

* * *

Derek knew he was running late. Stiles had already texted him to confirm if he was on his way, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.

Erica had been easing him off the easier clients for a couple of weeks now, and he’d actually been handling it much better than he’d expected. Or at least he was, until last night.

His latest client had been a complete asshole, and if the pay hadn’t been so good, he would have probably lost his composure and told him to go fuck himself. As it was, he had held his tongue as the man led him around by a leash, talking to his guests at some fancy party, showing him around and bragging about how easy it was to tame a werewolf if you knew how to handle them properly. Once the party was finally over, he had paid extra to keep him company for the rest of the night, and only allowed him to leave after breakfast, so he could brag to his friends about the experience in front of him.

So now he was sore, tired, and he’d only had time for a quick shower before hurrying over to Stiles’ for lunch. And while his sessions with him were something he usually looked forward to, he was having a hard time getting into the right mind set to deal with another session today.

He must have done a poor job of hiding his foul mood, because Stiles’ welcoming smile fell as soon as he saw him.

“Is everything okay?” Stiles asked with a frown, moving aside to let him pass.

“Fine. What are the plans for today?” Derek tried to put some enthusiasm in his voice, but Stiles knew him well enough by now, and it was clear he wasn’t buying it.

“Hey, seriously, do you need anything?” Stiles reached out to put a hand on his arm, probably trying to comfort him, but when he noticed Derek tensing up, he backed up, frown deepening. “Derek—”

“Please, just drop it,” Derek growled, before clenching his jaw shut. Even if they got on well, Stiles could decide to send a complaint to Erica about his attitude, and he’d be within his rights to do so.

Stiles stared at him for a moment longer, and without saying another word, he took out his phone.

Shit, he _was_ complaining then. He knew he shouldn’t take it so personally; it was his own fault after all, but he still felt strangely disappointed. A part of him had been hoping Stiles may give him some leeway, because of how well things had been going, but apparently that wasn't the case.

Except he was completely wrong, of course, because a second later, he got a notification on his phone letting him know Stiles had ended their session early, and he’d been paid in full.

“I don’t— what?”

“You should go home,” Stiles said, smiling tentatively. “Maybe get some rest. You don’t look so good, big guy.”

Derek stared at him, uncomprehending. “We haven’t— Stiles, I just got here, I can’t accept—"

"In the contract, it says that I’m allowed to end our sessions early if I want, as long as I remember I’ll still have to pay for the whole session. Well, this is me, ending things early, and paying you in full.” Stiles was blushing now, clearly nervous, but his voice was firm.

For the first time since last night, Derek forgot all about his last client. All that filled his mind was utter relief, gratitude, and a strong urge to—

“Can I hug you?” Derek blurted out.

“I… I mean, are you sure you’re up for it? You don’t have to, you know?”

Derek’s hands started shaking, his control slipping. “Please.”

Stiles still seemed hesitant, but he opened his arms, letting Derek make the first move. Derek stepped closer, slowly, until he practically collapsed in Stiles’ arms, face hidden in the crook of his neck and breathing in his scent, while Stiles rubbed circles against his back.

“You always ask,” Derek whispered.

“What?”

“You always ask what I want. I don’t— I don’t understand you.”

Stiles tried to put some distance between them, to look at his face, but Derek held on.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Stiles whispered, tightening his grip. “I— Of course I ask. I don’t want you to do anything you’re not comfortable with.”

“The contract—”

“—Is just a guideline. It doesn’t go into specifics. I know it may be annoying, or whatever, but I’m not willing to risk it.”

Derek felt the sudden urge to cry. He nuzzled deeper against Stiles’ neck, finding it strangely comforting that they would be covered in each other’s scents by the time he left.

After a couple of minutes, Derek let go with a whispered _thanks_ , worried that if he didn’t, he just wouldn’t be able to. With one last look, and the image of Stiles’ flushed face, smiling softly at him, Derek left, ready to get home and collapse in bed.

Maybe trusting Stiles didn’t have to be such a big leap of faith. Right now, it felt like the easiest thing he could ever do.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings at the end. I tried to keep them as non-spoilery as possible, so please check them out if you need to. It's nothing too graphic/explicit, just to clarify, but better safe than sorry.

By the time Saturday rolled around, Stiles was back to being a nervous wreck, like he was during his first session with Derek. He’d been worried out of his mind since Derek left on Tuesday, and not being able to check how he was doing had been hell. He’d considered multiple times just texting him and paying the extra fees, but he wasn’t sure that was a boundary he was ready to cross, and he didn’t want to risk putting Derek even more on edge by contacting him outside of their scheduled time together. So he continued to be _totally_ patient, as he waited for Derek to come over. Even though it was still thirty minutes until their session was set to start.

All right, so maybe he wasn’t being _that_ patient; sue him.

Twenty minutes and a cup of coffee later, Stiles jumped out of his skin when he heard a knock on the door, and then proceeded to fumble with the cup he was washing, only for it to slip out of his hands and shatter in half against the corner of the counter, one of the sharp edges slashing the palm of his hand.

“Stiles?”

Shit, of course he’d heard that.

He ignored the bleeding, since the wound wasn’t _that_ deep anyway, and rushed towards the door to open it.

“What happened?” Derek asked, nose flaring as he caught the scent of blood.

“Oh, nothing. It’s fine. I just,” Stiles gestured at his hand. “Knock on the door took me by surprise.”

“Shit, I’m sorry, I know I’m early—”

“No! No, it wasn’t you. Like, I’m naturally clumsy, so. It’s actually a miracle I haven’t injured myself in front of you yet, especially with all the time we spend in the kitchen.”

“You’re a menace,” Derek snorted, but he sounded fond. “You should wash it and put a bandage on it, though. You don’t want it to get infected.” He put his hand on Stiles’ back and steered him towards the sink, encircling his wrist and putting his hand under the spray. He was pressed up against Stiles’ back, and Stiles shivered when Derek’s breath ghosted over his ear, “You smell anxious.”

“Aren’t I always?”

Derek hummed, but didn’t say anything in response. Stiles turned off the sink and went to the bathroom to get some bandages, and then sat down in front of Derek, chairs facing each other.

“Is it because of what happened last time?” Derek asked, taking the bandages from Stiles and grabbing hold of Stiles’ hand to begin wrapping it.

“I— maybe. I’ve been worried, that’s all.”

Derek sent him a quick smile. “I’m okay, now. I was just having a bad day.”

Stiles bit his lip, and asked, tentatively, “Is it… something you want to talk about?”

Derek stayed quiet as he finished covering the gash on Stiles’ hand, and then let his own hand rest on top of it. “Not all clients are as nice as you are,” he finally said. “I’d just finished with a session that had lasted all night, and I wasn’t in the mood to deal with anyone else. Not that I have to _deal_ with you, I like coming here; I was just… tired, I guess.”

“All right,” Stiles whispered, nodding slowly. “I get that. You know I wouldn’t— I mean, if you ever need to cancel or anything, I won’t be mad, or complain to your boss, or whatever. Just, you know, if you ever need some time.”

“You realize I’m not really allowed to cancel on you, right?”

“Well, then let me know, and I’ll cancel on _you_.”

“I really don’t understand you.”

“It’s part of my charm,” Stiles snorted. “Now come on. Those cookies are not gonna bake themselves.”

* * *

Derek was checking his phone, getting ready to meet with his next client, when Stiles’ name suddenly flashed on the screen, signaling an in-coming call. On a _Wednesday_.

“Stiles?”

“Hey, I— are you busy?”

“You know I’m at work. And this isn’t one of our designated days.”

“Fuck, sorry, I know. I just, I needed to talk to someone, and I thought of you, and I just— _I’m sorry_.”

“Stiles, I’m sorry, but I can’t talk right now.” Derek felt like shit for turning him down, but he didn’t really have a choice. “You need to pay an extra fee if you want to talk, you know that, but I’m about to meet with a client right now—”

“Shit, I’m sorry,” Stiles choked out. “I didn’t mean to— I’ll send you the money for the call, don’t worry. I’ll leave you to it.”

“Wait, Stiles—” Derek stopped abruptly as the line went dead.

* * *

What the fuck was he thinking, calling Derek like that? God, he was such an idiot.

Stiles wrapped his arms around his legs, pressing his forehead to his knees, as he tried to calm his breathing. It had been months since he’d last had a panic attack, and the idea of having one now was not appealing in the least. He tried to distract himself, to focus on literally anything else, but his traitorous mind kept going back to his conversation with Derek, and how quickly Derek had dismissed him.

He knew, logically, that Derek was just doing his job, and that he had no right to be upset over it, but a part of him had been expecting… what? That he’d ignore the rules and talk to him anyway? That he’d drop everything that he was doing just to come and see him?

Stiles considered calling Scott, or maybe his dad, but neither of them knew he’d be going on a date today, since Stiles hadn’t wanted to get their expectations up. Which, in retrospect, had probably been a good call, considering how _that_ had turned out.

In spite of his spiraling thoughts, the pressure on his chest was receding, and his breathing had started to calm down. He gave himself a couple more seconds to wallow, before falling onto his side to lay more comfortably on the couch, kicking off his shoes and reaching for the blanket that he kept draped over the back of it. He couldn’t handle today, anymore; he’d deal with the fallout tomorrow.

* * *

A knock on the door woke him up.

Stiles searched blindly for his phone, and checked the time, realizing he’d only managed to sleep for three hours. He groaned as he saw the dim, orange sunlight coming through the blinds. Why couldn’t the world just let him sleep the rest of the day away? The sun was barely starting to set.

The knocking came back, more insistent this time, and he rolled out of the couch, shuffling towards the door. He expected to come face to face with one of his neighbors, but instead, it was Derek standing on the other side of the doorway.

“I—” Stiles had to stop to lick his lips, just noticing how dry his mouth was. “What are you doing here?”

“You sounded— I was worried, after you hung up. I’d have come sooner, but a client was about to arrive, so I came as soon as I could.”

“I don’t- Listen, if this is about the money for the call, I’m sorry I forgot to transfer it, I got kind of distracted, so just give me a sec—”

“Stiles, I don’t give a shit about the money,” Derek snapped, taking a step forward. He looked wrecked. “I shouldn’t have ignored you like that, not when you were obviously upset about something. I’m _sorry_.”

“Dude, seriously, stop.” Stiles took a step back. “You were just doing your job; I get it, okay?”

“That’s not— you’re not just a job. And if I’m reading this wrong, just say the word and I’ll leave, and we’ll never mention this again, but… I think we’re friends. And I care about you. Enough to worry when you call me out of the blue, which is something you’ve _never_ done before, sounding as if you’re about to cry. So _please_ , just— please, just talk to me. I promise I’ll listen this time.”

A part of Stiles wondered if maybe he was still asleep, and was experiencing some kind of lucid dream. But when he noticed the way Derek’s shoulders dropped, expression going carefully neutral, he realized that he didn’t care. “Are you up for a hug, or was that, like, a one-time thing?”

It took Derek a second to catch up, but once he did, he laughed quietly, reaching out to draw Stiles into his arms. He rubbed circles on his back, just like Stiles had done for him when their positions had been reversed, and pressed a kiss to his temple.

They held on for a while, not even caring that they were standing right outside of Stiles’ apartment, in full view of the neighbors. Eventually, Stiles pulled back, and tangled his fingers through Derek’s, pulling him inside and over to the kitchen.

“If I’m pouring my soul out to you, I’m going to need some tea. Want one?” He asked, as he took two cups out of the cupboard.

Derek nodded, and they stayed silent as the water boiled, hands finding each other once again, until Stiles had to let go to serve the tea. He passed Derek one of the cups, and they went into the living room and sat down on the couch, close enough that their shoulders were touching.

“So, I— I went on a date today,” Stiles mumbled.

He felt Derek tense up beside him. “I take it it didn’t go well?” he asked carefully.

“You could say that,” Stiles huffed. “I— Okay, so, I haven’t really dated in a while. And since we’ve began this whole thing, I’ve been thinking maybe it was time to try again. I mean, it’s nice. Being close to someone like this,” Stiles said, avoiding Derek’s gaze. “Anyway, I run into a guy that I’d met while I was in college, and we started talking. He asked me out on a date, and he was nice, from what I remembered, so I decided to give it a go.” He stopped to take a sip from his tea. “We went out for coffee, and things were going well. But then—” Stiles cut off, curling his hands tightly around the cup. He was _not_ going to cry in front of Derek.

“Hey,” Derek whispered, placing his hand on top of Stiles’ leg, and giving it a firm squeeze. “It’s okay. Take your time.”

“He— he asked if I wanted to get back to his place. I said he was being a bit too forward, and moving too fast, and he laughed and said that apparently, I was still the same prude I’d been back in college. I was going to answer, but then he kissed me, and I tried to push him off— Shit!”

“Fuck, I’m sorry,” Derek growled, as he moved his hand from Stiles’ leg and retracted his claws. “Oh god, did I hurt you?”

“No, no, you just took me by surprise,” Stiles looked up, and saw Derek’s eyes had turned a bright red. “Shit, are _you_ okay?”

“This isn’t about me.” Derek closed his eyes, breathing in deeply as he tried to get back in control, and when he opened them again, they were back to being green. “I’m _so_ sorry.”

“It’s fine. I appreciate you being angry on my behalf, but maybe no trying to claw through my leg next time, please?” Derek tried to move away, to give him some space, but Stiles held onto his arm. “Hey, no, none of that. I’m not angry, or scared, or whatever it is you’re thinking. I promise I was just surprised, okay?”

Derek examined him for a moment, and while he didn’t seem convinced, he let it go. “All right. Please, go on.”

“I mean, not much happened after that. Well, he— I managed to push him away, and he said— he said I was probably still a virgin, since I wouldn’t let anyone in college fuck me either, and that I hadn’t changed a bit. And then he left,” Stiles finished with a shrug, feigning disinterest.

“I hope I don’t need to tell you this, but the guy was an asshole. There is nothing wrong with wanting to wait, and you shouldn’t let anyone—”

“I’m not a virgin.”

Derek seemed taken aback, but quickly regained his composure. “ _Oh_. I’m sorry, I wasn’t trying to assume, I was just—”

“Dude, I know,” Stiles laughed quietly. “I had sex, once, just after high school. But it wasn’t—” he rubbed a hand over his face, trying to ignore how they were starting to shake.

“It’s okay. You don’t have to tell me.”

“Derek, I _want_ to tell you. I just don’t want you to leave. Or laugh. Or react the same way that asshole did.”

“ _Stiles_.” Derek sounded horrified. “I would never—”

“I’m asexual,” Stiles blurted out.

“You're— what?”

Stiles flinched, trying to move back, but this time, it was Derek who held onto his arm.

“Hey, no, I’m sorry. I wasn’t— I just wasn’t expecting that. It’s okay.”

Stiles scoffed, “Is it?”

“ _Yes_.” Derek put a hand on Stiles’ jaw, waiting until he turned to face him. “There’s nothing wrong with you. I don’t know much about asexuality, but I’ve heard of it. Your identity is your own, and you shouldn’t let anyone dictate how you feel.”

Stiles tried to laugh, but it came out more like a sob. “Did you read that somewhere?”

“No. My mum said that to me when I came out to her as bi. I thought it might apply to this situation, too.” Derek’s eyes suddenly went wide. “Not that I think it’s the same thing. Obviously, they’re completely different experiences—”

“ _Oh my god_ , calm down, I get it.” Stiles’ smile was more genuine this time, and his shoulders lost some of their tension. “Thanks.”

“You have nothing to thank me for.”

“Well, you reacted better than I thought you would. I mean, not that I _actually_ thought you’d be a dick about it, but—” He shrugged. “People don’t usually react all that well, when you imply that you’re not interested in sex, as my date could probably attest to.”

Derek frowned. “Can I ask— wait, no, never mind.”

“Ask away.”

“I don’t want to offend you.”

Stiles observed him for a moment, head tilted in curiosity. “How about this: you’re allowed to ask, no judgement, but I can refuse to answer. Okay?”

Derek nodded slowly, seemingly hesitant. “You know I can smell… stuff.”

“… Stuff.”

“Yeah, I— I can smell it, when you—” Derek was blushing now, as he gestured towards his crotch.

“Oh!” Stiles laughed. “You mean when I masturbate, right?”

“Yes,” Derek muttered, blushing harder. “I mean, how does it work?” he winced. “Obviously I know how it works, I just, I thought being asexual meant you didn’t like sex at all, so—”

“Dude, seriously, _calm down_ , you look like you’re about to pass out,” Stiles said, biting back another laugh. “Just know that I’m only answering because I can tell it’s a genuine question, and you’re not trying to be a dick. Yes, I do masturbate. It feels good. And being asexual means that I’m not attracted to people, but it’s like, a scale, you know? Some of us are more willing to have sex, and some of us aren’t into it at all.”

“So, in your case…?”

“Well, I told you I tried it once. I wanted— I needed to know. And I thought I needed to try, before I could know for sure,” he scoffed, sounding bitter. “That was a fun way to find out I was, in fact, sex repulsed.”

“I’m sorry,” Derek whispered.

“It’s okay. It was a long time ago.”

They stayed silent for a moment, before Derek said quietly, “I think that after the day you’ve had, you deserve some comfort food. How would you like some brownies?”

Stiles took his hand once more, brushing a kiss on the back of it. “I’d love some.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: brief depiction of a panic attack. Non-consensual kissing by a character (that isn't Stiles or Derek) who also acts like a dick afterwards. Hints of acephobia.   
> Also, as I mentioned in the first chapter, I'm basing Stiles' asexuality on my own, and my own knowledge. At one point, he talks a bit about it, in a very general way, mostly focusing on what he knows/feels. So please remember that we're all different and equally valid x


	5. Chapter 5

The rest of Stiles’ week was far calmer, and much less emotionally draining, thankfully.

On Friday, he had his weekly phone call with his dad, and very pointedly didn’t bring up the whole date fiasco —and neither would he be mentioning it to Scott any time soon, if he could help it. They were the most important people in his life and he loved them to death, honestly, but he didn’t think he could handle their reactions; he dreaded to imagine how furious his dad would be that someone had treated him that way, while covering up how disappointed he was that Stiles still hadn’t found anyone, while Scott would just give him puppy dog eyes and feed him reassurances, mournful that his dreams of going on a double date, once Stiles went home for a visit, had been dashed again. Stiles knew they weren’t trying to hurt him, but he’d always feel out of sorts for a couple of days after those kinds of conversations, even if their words were out of concern, and not any sort of maliciousness.

Then, on Saturday, Derek came over for another session, and they spent the day curled up on the couch watching movies. Their conversation on Tuesday seemed to have shaken something in both of them: While they’d sit close and touch before, now Stiles had no qualms in letting his legs rest on Derek’s, the man’s hands sitting warmly on top of them, fingers brushing on the exposed skin of his ankles, or letting Derek rest his head on his lap, while Stiles run his fingers through his hear. Derek hadn’t allowed much reciprocation before, preferring to be the one who initiated contact, but he seemed to revel in it now, which delighted Stiles to no end. Life was good.

_Too good_ , apparently.

* * *

“… You look like shit,” Derek said, raising an eyebrow as he looked Stiles over.

Stiles stifled a cough, narrowing his eyes at him. “Hello to you, too.”

He let Derek into the apartment and stumbled over to the couch, grabbing the blanket he’d left behind and wrapping it tightly around his shoulders, as he curled himself into a small ball of misery.

“Are you sick?” Derek asked, just as Stiles started to sneeze.

“Why don’t you ask those keen werewolf senses of yours?”

Derek’s second eyebrow joined the first one, as he moved to sit on the coffee table. “Sick you is surprisingly grumpy.”

“Dude, I spent the whole night dealing with a fever and being woken up every half-hour by my own coughing,” Stiles mumbled, stopping to blow his nose, and letting the tissue fall onto the floor, to join the other ones that surrounded the couch. “So now I’m exhausted, my chest and throat feel like they’re on _fire_ , and if that doesn’t kill me then this fucking headache will. I think I’m allowed to be _grumpy_ ,” Stiles sniffed pitifully.

“Stiles,” Derek sighed, though by the way the corner of his mouth kept twitching, it looked like he was trying to fight off an amused smile. “If you were feeling so poorly, why didn’t you just _cancel_?”

Stiles shrugged, hoping his already flushed cheeks from the fever would help hide his embarrassment. “You told me last week that you were trying to save up for something, so I didn’t want you to lose out on the money. I mean, I could always end the session early and you’d still get paid, it can’t be very fun for you to put up with me when I’m like this, but—”

“You’re an idiot,” Derek interrupted him, but he was smiling. “You know my job pays well; I wasn’t trying to guilt trip you. _You_ , on the other hand, should not be throwing money around like that. I know you want to go see your dad during the holidays, so how about you save money for that, instead?”

“My job may not be as fancy as yours, but I’m not _poor_. Rude.”

Derek snorted, reaching out to cradle Stiles’ jaw, and brushing his thumb lightly over his cheek. “How about I stay, since I’m here already, and actually do something that’ll make you feel better? Hiding away in your little ball of misery will do you no favors.”

Stiles looked at him with suspicion. “Something like what?”

“Go take a shower first, you reek— and stop doing that face. I’ll take care of the rest.”

Stiles groaned, but did as he was told. Getting into the shower had been an ordeal, and he’d almost fallen over _twice_ , but he _was_ feeling a bit better by the end of it. Not that he’d be admitting that to Derek.

By the time he went back into the living room, Derek had tidied everything up and was now stretched out on the couch, a steaming cup of tea sitting on the coffee table.

“It has lemon and honey,” Derek said, passing him the tea. “Drink it quickly before it gets cold.”

“Why do I get the feeling that you only made me take a shower so you could take over my couch?”

Derek rolled his eyes. “Just get over here.”

Stiles stepped closer to Derek and let him pull him closer, until Stiles was laying back on his chest, settled between his legs, with the blanket covering up his front.

“Not that this isn’t super comfortable, but what exactly— _oh my god_ ,” Stiles moaned, the moment Derek covered his chest with one hand, the other one finding its way to his temple. He looked down, and was surprised to see black lines running up Derek’s arm. “What are you _doing_?”

“You didn’t think an enhanced sense of smell and hearing were my only werewolf superpowers, did you?” Derek said, sounding amused. “I’m taking some of your pain. It won’t cure your cold, mind you, but it’ll make your head and chest feel better, at least.”

“It feels amazing. _You’re_ amazing. Thank you.”

He felt Derek press a kiss to the back of his neck as a response, and he finished off his tea, the only sounds in the room coming from the Tv. When he was done, he placed the cup back on the coffee table, careful not to dislodge Derek’s hands, and a moment later, he was drifting off.

* * *

Stiles woke up when a pair of hands started shaking him.

“Hey,” Derek whispered against his ear. “I’m sorry, but I need to go. Our time’s up, and I have another job lined up in an hour.”

“Shit, sorry,” Stiles muttered, moving over so Derek could get up. “Thanks for today, really. I know you were probably bored out of your mind, but I’m feeling a lot better now.”

“It wasn’t a big deal. And I ended up taking a nap too, so I didn’t have time to get bored,” Derek said, flashing him a quick smile. “Don’t forget to take care of yourself, though. You might feel better now, but you’re still sick.”

Stiles nodded. “Do you want some coffee before you leave?”

“I’m fine. I’ll just grab one on the way, I don’t want to risk being late.” Derek was heading to the door, but then stopped, and turned towards him. “Oh, I almost forgot. I meant to ask— or well, I was going to tell you, technically—”

“Hey, it’s okay,” Stiles frowned. “You usually only get like this when you’re nervous. What’s wrong?”

“I’ve been doing some research,” Derek said, hesitantly, “on asexuality.”

“You’ve— what?”

“I hope I’m not overstepping, but I wanted— I wanted to make sure that if you ever brought up the subject again, or simply mentioned it in passing, I’d be more prepared. I mean, obviously your experience is your own, so not everything I’ve read will apply to you, or anything. But— I don’t want to risk offending you, or hurting you. So I thought if I had some general knowledge, at least, I’d be able to understand it a bit more, and not say something stupid. Like question you on your masturbating habits,” Derek winced.

“That’s—” Stiles had to cough to remove the knot that had appeared in his throat, and he knew it had nothing to do with his cold. “I appreciate it. Thanks.”

“It’s the least I could do,” Derek whispered, and after pressing a kiss to his temple, he left.

This… this was bad.

* * *

“I fucked up.”

Scott’s smile turned into a concerned frown at Stiles' greeting. “What’s wrong? What happened?”

“You were right,” Stiles choked out. “God, I’m _such_ an idiot.”

“Wait, I don’t—” Scott suddenly stopped, as realization washed over his face. “Derek.”

“I should have listened to you; I should have never—”

“Hey, hey, calm down. It’s okay. Just talk to me, okay? Tell me what happened.”

So Stiles did. He told Scott everything, from the beginning, including that disastrous date he’d gone to and Derek’s reaction afterwards. He told him about coming out to Derek, and how well he’d taken it, and finally about how, after spending the afternoon taking care of him, Derek had admitted he’d been reading up more on asexuality for him.

“You know what the worst part is?” Stiles laughed bitterly. “This isn’t even like those other times. Derek’s— the dude’s fucking perfect, okay? And I know I’m basically paying him to be nice to me, I _know_ , but he said we were friends, and I know he meant it, and no one’s ever—” Stiles held back a sob. “No one’s ever reacted like that. Like there’s nothing wrong with me; like I’m _normal_.”

“ _Don’t_ ,” Scott said firmly. “Of course there’s nothing wrong with you, dude, you know I—”

“You still _pity_ me. Don’t try to deny it,” Stiles added, when Scott opened his mouth to protest. “You and dad… I know you love me, but I’m not blind. I can tell you feel sorry for me, because you don’t think I’ll ever be in a relationship like yours.”

“Stiles, that’s not— Bro, I just want you to be _happy_. I don’t feel sorry for you, I just want you to find someone that’ll look past the whole asexual thing and see how awesome you are in spite of it.”

“That’s the thing, Scott.” Stiles smiled sadly. “I don’t want to be with someone who’ll love me _in spite_ of it. I want to be with someone who’ll love _all_ of me.”

“And what, you think Derek’s that someone?”

“No. But he’s the only one who seems to understand that.” Stiles took a deep breath, closing his eyes. “I think… I think I need to break the contract.”

* * *

Because Stiles was apparently too much of a coward, and wanted to delay the inevitable, he cancelled Saturday’s session, claiming he was still feeling sick and didn’t want to waste Derek’s time again. By the time Tuesday rolled around, he knew he couldn’t keep putting it off, so he waited patiently for Derek to arrive.

When he finally heard a knock on the door, he went to open it and was immediately faced with Derek’s concerned expression.

“What’s wrong?” Derek asked, stepping towards him, but stopping on his tracks when Stiles took a step back. “Stiles?”

“We need to talk,” Stiles said, trying to keep his voice steady. He turned around and made his way to the kitchen, and after a second, he heard Derek following him.

Once they sat down, Derek asked, “Stiles, please, you’re worrying me. Did something—”

“I already went through the app and indicated that I want to terminate the contract. Your boss, Erica, probably got the notification already, and from what I’ve read, she’ll need to talk to you before it’s finalized, so just— you can tell her she can get in touch with me herself once it’s done, if you don’t want to do it. Or if there’s anything else that needs to be done, first.”

Derek looked taken aback. “Stiles, I don’t— Did something happen? Did I—”

“I’m falling in love with you,” Stiles said quietly, eyes fixed on the table between them. “I have for a while. I think I didn’t notice because it happened so gradually, so easily, that it took me by surprise.” He took a shaky breath, and looked up. “But I can’t— I have no right to put this on you. It’s not fair of me to expect you to do your job, when it would mean something completely different to me. I can’t take advantage of you like that.”

Derek’s expression had gone carefully blank. “All right. I understand.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry, too.” Derek got up and made his way to the door, but turned to look at him one last time. “Goodbye, Stiles. I’ll be seeing you.” And with that, he left.

“Yeah,” Stiles snorted, holding back tears. “Yeah, sure you will.”

He waited until he was sure Derek would be too far away to hear, before he broke down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like I should apologise, but... well. I promise you won't be hating me for long, at least?


	6. Chapter 6

Stiles cried until he had no more tears left, hunched over the kitchen table and gasping for breath, and when he eventually managed to calm down, he got up and dragged himself over to the bed. He debated calling Scott, but considering how they'd ended their last call, he decided against it. He couldn’t even call his dad, since he never told him about Derek in the first place, and he didn’t want to have to explain everything; he didn’t think he could deal with his dad’s reaction on top of everything else.

Just as he was starting to drift off, there was a knock on the door. Stiles clenched his eyes shut, only now realizing how much he’d come to associate the sound with Derek coming over for one of their sessions, and decided that whoever it was would just have to deal with being ignored.

Except the knocking didn’t stop; in fact, it seemed to be getting louder, more desperate. Knowing he wouldn’t get any peace until he dealt with the issue, Stiles got up on shaky legs and stumbled over to open the door, ready to tell the person to fuck off, only to freeze in place at the sight of Derek.

“Are you—” Stiles croaked out. “Did Erica need me for anything else, or—”

“Did you know,” Derek interrupted, taking a step towards Stiles, “that some of the rules don’t appear in the contract?”

“… Okay? I don’t—”

“And did you know,” Derek continued, taking another step, as he shut the door behind him, “that one of those rules forbids us from engaging in any kind of romantic relationship with a client, while we’re under said contract?”

Stiles’ mouth went dry. “Derek—”

“And did you also know,” Derek whispered, as he took one final step, only a breath separating them now, “that I have feelings for you too, but couldn’t act on them before the contract was officially terminated?”

Stiles was shaking now, and he closed his eyes when Derek moved to rest their foreheads together, his arms coming up to encircle Stiles’ waist, pulling him even closer.

“I believe I told you, when I left, that I would be seeing you,” Derek whispered against his lips.

Stiles choked out a laugh. “You’re unbelievable,” he said quietly, leaning back so he could stare at Derek’s face, reaching out to cradle it between his hands.

Derek brushed Stiles' nose with his own, and asked, tentative, “Can I kiss you? Is it— is that something you’d like?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I— _please_.”

Derek pressed their lips softly together, as his arms tightened around him. Knowing Derek was more experienced than he was, Stiles let him set the pace, and was pleasantly surprised at how _gentle_ he was being. Derek seemed to instinctively know how much he could take, because he only felt the barest hint of tongue, teasing, but never asking for entrance. Stiles couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so cherished. Derek kissed him like he was something important, like he _wanted_ him, but his hands never strayed further down, he didn’t insinuate a leg between his own, seeking something more.

When they broke the kiss, Derek moved to press his lips against Stiles’ cheekbone, his jaw, all the way down to his neck, burying himself there and breathing him in.

“Can I— Stiles, can I mark you? Would you—”

Stiles moved one of his hands to Derek’s hair, pulling him in, as he bared his neck in a silent invitation. Derek pressed a few open-mouthed kisses on his skin before he bit down, and while Stiles expected to feel some sort of discomfort, he was glad to realize that it didn’t feel as bad as he’d thought. It didn’t do anything for him, not in _that_ way, but it still felt strangely comforting, though he did pull lightly at Derek’s hair after a couple of seconds to get him to stop.

“Sorry,” Derek whispered roughly, as he pulled back. “Too much?”

“A bit,” Stiles admitted. “But it was fine. It felt good,” he added, with a shrug.

Derek smiled, and pressed one last, lingering kiss to Stiles’ lips. “I know we should sit down and talk, but for now, can we— Can I just hold you for a while?”

Stiles smiled back and took his hand, leading him to the living room so they could lay on the couch, and Derek curled up behind Stiles, an arm thrown over his waist to keep him close, as he nuzzled into his neck, and it wan't long before they doze off.

* * *

When Stiles woke up, the first thing he felt was Derek’s warm breath tickling the back of his neck. He turned around, careful not to break Derek’s hold, and reached out to touch his jaw, feeling the soft beard under his fingertips. A part of him still couldn’t believe he hadn’t dreamt the whole thing, that he’d gotten so lucky.

“Why are you awake?” Derek mumbled, opening one eye to stare at him.

“Just thinking.”

Both of Derek’s eyes were open now, and he was frowning. “Everything okay?” he asked, just as Stiles blurted out, “You do remember that I’m ace, right?”

“… Yes?” Derek’s frown deepened. “What’s this about?”

“I mean… most people would be disappointed, knowing that they wouldn’t be getting regular sex from their partner.”

Derek snorted. “And you remember what I do for a living, I’m assuming? Most people wouldn’t be okay with sharing.”

“It’s not _sharing_. It’s not like you’d be cheating on me; it’s your job. I don’t care, dude.”

“Exactly. Stiles, I don’t care if you never sleep with me. I— I don’t think you understand how rare it is, for me, to meet someone who cares about something more than how to get me into bed. Or how to use me. I _like_ you, Stiles. And I like that you like _me_ , and not just my dick.”

Stiles bit his lip. “We really should talk.”

“I know,” Derek sighed. “And we should… talk about boundaries, probably. For both of us,” he added, with a grimace.

Stiles nodded. “Coffee?”

Derek agreed, and brushed a quick kiss against the corner of Stiles’ mouth, before they got up and went to the kitchen. Once the coffee was ready, they sat down, ankles locked together under the table, and Derek said, “I know you said your feelings took you by surprise, but can I ask… do you think you know, when things changed for you, looking back?”

Stiles took a sip of his coffee, thinking it over. “I mean, I’m not really sure, but it was probably the day I came out to you. I’ve never had someone react the way you did, before, and I just— it meant a lot,” he shrugged. “But I didn’t realize until last Tuesday, when you said you had read up on asexuality for me. I sort of had a nervous breakdown when I realized, after you left.”

Derek’s eyes turned soft. “It was similar for me too. The day you cancelled our session just because I was having a bad day, I— I definitely felt something. But I didn’t realize what it was either, until today. The fact that you—” Derek pressed his lips together, reaching out to hold Stiles’ hand. “The fact that your first concern was breaking things off, because you didn’t want to take advantage of me… It meant more than I can say.” Derek took a deep breath, and squeezed Stiles’ hand tighter. “I had a bad experience with a client once, who took things too far. Who got it in her head that there was something more between us, and wouldn’t take no for an answer. It’s not something I’m ready to talk about in detail, but it’s something that you need to know.”

“That’s okay. You can tell me when you’re ready,” Stiles said, pressing a kiss to the back of Derek’s hand.

They stayed quiet for a while, as they finished their coffee, but eventually, Stiles said, “So. Boundaries.”

“Yes. Is it— I know you’re okay with kissing, and you seemed to enjoy all the touching we’ve done so far, but is there anything else you’d like? Or that you’d prefer to avoid?”

“Kissing’s fine, just— um, I’m not comfortable with too much tongue,” Stiles said, blushing furiously, but Derek placed a kiss on the back of his hand, just as Stiles had done before, to encourage him to continue. “Everything we’ve done so far is great, and anything that isn’t sexual is fine, but— Listen, I know you have a dick. And I know you’ll probably get hard sometimes, and that’s okay, as long as you don’t expect me to do anything about it. Maybe I’ll change my mind in the future, though I can’t really see that happening right now, so I just want to make sure you don’t _expect_ things to change later on, or—”

“Breathe,” Derek whispered. “I would never _expect_ you to do anything. If you ever want to try something out, great, but I won’t be disappointed if you never do. Your company means infinitely more to me than sex, all right? Never doubt that.”

“You better stop that unless you want me to start sobbing, big guy,” Stiles said roughly.

“Get used to it,” Derek snorted.

“Asshole,” Stiles muttered, though he was grinning. He then turned serious again, and asked, “What about you? Anything I need to watch out for?”

“I… I’d appreciate it if we could take things slow. I realize it may sound ridiculous, considering we’ve practically been dating this whole time, but—”

“Hey, no, I get it. It’s not really the same thing.”

Derek nodded, seemingly relieved they were on the same page. “And you know my job is demanding, and that I work long hours sometimes. I won’t be able to come over all the time, and making plans could be complicated because my schedule changes all the time, but I was thinking… I was hoping that we could text and talk throughout the day, to compensate. Now that we’re actually able to.”

“Sound good,” Stiles smiled. “I know you’re busy, don’t worry about it. Just send me a text whenever you’re free, and I’ll make some time to talk, it won’t be a problem on my end. Maybe I could to your apartment sometimes too? Just so you’re not the only one who has to make the trip every time.”

“I would… prefer it if we met here,” Derek said, shoulders tensing for a second before they relaxed again. “When I moved in with my roommate, we did it knowing that neither of us would be bringing people over. I wouldn’t want to disturb them, and we wouldn’t have much privacy there anyway.”

“All right. Whatever you prefer is fine.”

“Thank you,” Derek said, giving his hand another squeeze. “I don’t expect this to be easy, and I’m sure we’ll be figuring things out as we go, but… I think it’ll be worth it. And I’m willing to put in the effort if you are.”

“I am. Of course I am.” Stiles threw a quick glance at the clock. “Do you have time to stay a bit longer, or do you need to go back to work?”

"Erica gave me the day off, so I can stay as long as you want."

"Did she? Wait, did she know you'd be coming back here?"

"Oh, she did," Derek snorted. "She said she'd expected something like this to happen for a while now. She's going to want to meet you soon, by the way, probably to ask about your intentions, or something," he said, rolling his eyes, but the paused. "Not that there's any rush, of course, we can wait as long as you need if you’re not ready to—"

"Derek, I'd love to meet her. I understand she may be worried about you dating a former client, especially after what you told me. How about... maybe two or three weeks from now? Just so we can find our footing first?"

"Yeah, that sounds good.”

“We should probably wait until I introduce you to Scott and my dad, though. Not that I don’t want you to meet them!” Stiles rushed to add. “But it’s probably a bit too soon for that, and I’d rather ease my dad into the whole story of how we met, ‘cause he’ll probably freak out, and—”

“Stiles, _calm down_ ,” Derek said, sounding amused. “I usually wouldn’t have you meet Erica so soon either, but… well, it’s unavoidable, considering the circumstances. We said we’d take things slow, right? So we can leave that for later.”

“Okay, good.” Stiles leaned back on his chair. “I don’t know about you, but talking about feelings is _exhausting_. Baking time?”

“Brownies again?”

“Fuck, yes, we’ve totally earned them.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You're welcome x


End file.
